


Take A Leap Of Faith

by ladypigswagon



Series: Tumblr Prompts [20]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale as Superman, Journalist Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Stiles Stilinski as Lois Lane, Superhero Derek, Tumblr Prompt, mild threat in the form of property damage, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:13:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7229503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladypigswagon/pseuds/ladypigswagon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something about Derek Hale that Stiles can’t put his finger on and it is bugging him. It’s like an itch he just can’t scratch, Derek Hale has a secret and Stiles just wants to know. Scott thinks Stiles has a massive crush and is in too much denial to address it.</p><p>Stiles thinks Scott should stay in his lane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take A Leap Of Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: love your writing! are you currently taking prompts, right? now that hoechlin has been cast as clark kent/superman on supergirl, how about a sterek superheroes au series with stiles as the male version of lois lane? ❤
> 
> I’m not that into DC, I’ve only seen Batman VS Superman and really really old episodes of the New Adventures of Superman with Teri Hatcher as Lois Lane. But I gave it a go cause Hoechlin is gonna be the cutest Superman and Stiles would make a great Lois Lane.

There is something about Derek Hale that Stiles can’t put his finger on and it is bugging him. It’s like an itch he just can’t scratch, Derek Hale has a secret and Stiles just wants to know. Scott thinks Stiles has a massive crush and is in too much denial to address it.

Stiles thinks Scott should stay in his lane.

Stiles is man enough to admit that Derek is attractive. He’s tall, muscular, handsome and always dips his head when he smiles. He wears these cute, dorky glasses and has adorable bunny teeth. Plus there was that time that he came into work after the Christmas break and had three-day stubble. Stiles nearly got his hand trapped in the photocopier when Derek had greeted him that day. But Stiles does not have a crush on him.

Stiles is a great journalist. He isn’t afraid to get to the raw details of a story, determined in a way that Finstock describes as ‘insane’ but Stiles perceives as part of his charm. He will find out what makes Derek tick, what he’s hiding.

No matter what Scott says, Stiles is not obsessed.

//

“Right,” Finstock barks, “You lot, pay attention!”

Stiles rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands before swinging his chair round to face Finstock.

“New assignments! McCall, Argent I want you at that new gallery opening down on sixth. Dunbar! Hewitt! Why are you still here? You have a baseball game to be at? HUSTLE!”

Stiles snorts as he watches Liam and Mason scramble out the door. Mason then has to come back to grab his camera before scurrying off again. Stiles notes how Derek is trying to hide his grin by adjusting his glasses.

“Stilinski! Hale!”

Stiles drags his attention away from Derek and back onto Finstock.

“Superman took out another psychotic super villain last night, and nearly destroyed half of Metropolis in the process. I want you talking to the shop owners, those who have to build from the ground up now that their livelihoods have been torn apart!”

Stiles nods, grabbing his gear. It’s not the most exciting story but everyone has an opinion on Superman right now. He appeared one day, sucker punched a megalomaniac in face and saved the entire city. Most are grateful, some are skeptical and Stiles has the job of interviewing everyone in between.

Stiles is ambivalent in regards to Superman. Sure, having a superhero to take on the idiots misusing science to destroy the city is helpful but it’s not like Superman is tackling the shit cops have to deal with. And he’s not exactly hanging around to clear up his mess. But he’s helping and it’s nice not to be vaporized by a purple-skinned monster calling itself Parasite.

“Ready to go?” Stiles asks, clapping Derek on the shoulder. Derek startles at the contact.

“Yes, sure,” Derek replies, “Just let me.”

He goes to grab his phone from where it’s charging but knocks over his pencil pot. He tries to grab the spilling pens and ends up pushing the photo of his family onto the floor.

“Yikes dude,” Stiles says, crouching down to pick the photo frame. Luckily it’s not broken. “You alright?”

“Fine,” Derek growls, snatching back the frame. “Let’s go.”

He stalks away, his shoulders a tight line.

//

“That Superman isn’t helping, he’s the problem. I bet half of these super-villains wouldn’t even try to take over the world if he wasn’t around. He’s attracting trouble.”

Stiles kind of wants to punch this guy. He’s such an asshole and Stiles has had to record his entire rant. It’s mostly the same garbage, believing that the problem is the guy trying to stop the violence and not the people causing it. The fact that the guy is a sexist, racist douche makes Stiles want to punch him even more.

“Well thank you for you time,” Stiles says through gritted teeth. He marches away before the asshole can continue. He stalks down the street, trying to find Derek who is meant to be interviewing the old ladies in the bodega on the corner.

Instead, Derek is sweeping away the floor and apparently instead of interviewing has been trying to clear away the rubble. The old ladies are chatting away to him, perched on a section of the wall. One has bubblegum pink hair in tight curls.

Stiles stops in the doorway; he would lean against it but he suspects there is structural damage. Derek has taken off his blazer, rolled the sleeves of his crisp blue shirt up to the elbow. He laughs at a story the pink haired woman is telling, eyes crinkling around the edges. Stiles has always liked Derek’s eyes. They stay mostly hidden behind his chunky glasses but up close they are gorgeous. It’s hard to discern one particular color.

“Did you actually do your job?” Stiles teases, “Or are you going to clean the entire street?”

Derek blushes, the tips of his ears going red. Stiles grins.

“Come on Chris Evans,” Stiles says, “We have to get back to work.”

“Chris Evans?” Derek asks, eyebrows knitting in confusion. It’s an intense look; Derek’s eyebrows are thick.

“He’s an actor sweetie,” Bubblegum hair says, “He plays a superhero in one of those Marvel movies. Very nice young man, he cleared up the set after they’d finished filming.”

“You,” Stiles says, pointing at bubblegum hair and winking, “You I like. Would you guys like to be the photo for our piece?”

“Oh we would love to,” Bubblegum hair says, clapping her hands.

“You heard the woman,” Stiles instructs, snapping his fingers at Derek, “Get snapping.”

//

They’re sifting through the interviews, deciding which quotes to use when Derek finds the recording of the asshole. Stiles is flicking through the photos on his laptop, not paying attention to Derek and only looks up when the assholes nasally voice starts speaking.

“I mean what is Superman really doing for this city? He’s a freak!”  
  
“Urgh Derek turn it off,” Stiles complains, “That guy was a douche, I’m not using anything he said.”

Derek presses the off button forcefully. So forcefully that it gets stuck and the plastic casing cracks. Derek’s eyes widen, his mouth dropping open.

“Sorry,” Derek mumbles, dropping the Dictaphone on the table.

“Its fine dude,” Stiles says, “I nicked that from Finstock, so technically you owe him a new one.”

Derek looks down at his hands. Stiles pushes the laptop away, leaning forward on the desk.

“You ok?” Stiles asks.

“He’s right,” Derek says. He gets up, walking over to the window. “Superman is wreaking the city as much as saving it. There’s no responsibility for the actions, no thought for the consequences.”

“There’s also no super-villains using our heads for doorstops or poisoning the city water supply,” Stiles counters. Derek continues to look down at the city.

“You’re really upset,” Stiles observes. He is very blunt with the next question, hoping direct will shock Derek into revealing his secrets. “Do you know Superman?”

“We’ve met,” Derek says. His tone isn’t exactly sharp but feels tight and constricting. Stiles may be curious but he’s not going to pry. As curious as he is, Derek genuinely looks distressed and Stiles isn’t a completely dick.

“Well maybe you should suggest to Superman that he go talk to insurance companies and get himself registered as an insurance claim,” Stiles suggests. Derek turns around, eyes alight.

“Stiles that’s brilliant,” Derek says, mouth splitting into a wide grin. It suits him, wiping away the previous pensive expression.

“I am on occasion known to be brilliant,” Stiles replies, “Now come on, we have an article to write.”

//

“Stilinski,” Finstock yells over the chaos of the bullpen. Stiles has to swerve around Liam, nearly knocking the kid to the ground. Superman is fighting a giant mutant crocodile downtown and the phones have been ringing nonstop since the fight started.

“What?”

Finstock grabs Stiles by the scruff of the neck, pulling him to one side.

“Superman is tearing up the city again,” Finstock barks, “Get down there and cover it.”

He pushes Stiles away. Stiles stumbles from the force of it, rubbing the back of his neck.

“And where the hell is Hale? Jeez, every time I turn around that kid is off somewhere, doing something he shouldn’t!”

//

Superman punches the crocodile in the face. It skids backwards, roaring indignantly. Its tail swings wildly, shattering the windows of the Whittemore Enterprises building.

Stiles dives into an alleyway to escape flying debris. He peeks out from the entrance, angling the camera up. He fiddles with it until it zooms in, trying to get a shot of Superman’s face. He gets the shot, Superman’s laser eyes a bright hot red.

The crocodiles’ tail swings again, smashing into the building above Stiles. Stiles screams. He can’t move. Fear is pinning Stiles in place like a butterfly in a display case.

Someone grips Stiles waist. He gets yanked out of the way and up into the sky.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Stiles yelps, legs flailing wildly. The crocodile is far below, looking either very sleepy or very dead.

“Relax,” A warm musical voice says, one arm sliding under Stiles knees. Stiles is shifted until he’s being carried bridal style and well, that’s slightly humiliating.

“Well,” Stiles says, forcing himself not to flush like a ripened cherry, “At least I’m not over your shoulder like you hunted me.”

Superman chuckles. Stiles looks up, ready to interview the local neighborhood superhero. The face that he’s met with makes his jaw drop. Stiles blinks a few times, hoping he hasn’t died or isn’t lying in the alleyway concussed. He would know those eyes anywhere.

“Derek,” Stiles murmurs. Derek’s ears burn red.

“How?” Derek says, spluttering. They’ve been drifted slowly down to a rooftop. The moment they touch ground, Stiles scrambles out of Derek’s arms, pointing at him accusingly.

“Your eyes of course, I’d know them anywhere jeez” Stiles says, gesturing wildly, “I knew there was something you weren’t telling me, I didn’t think it was this. Christ on a bike!”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Derek says. Stiles gives him a withering look. God that superhero suit is tight, the S stretched across Derek’s broad chest.

“I’m not stupid Derek,” Stiles retorts. Derek Hale is Superman. Derek Hale is an alien. “God how do people not realize? You don’t even wear a mask?! You literally slick back your hair and take off your glasses.”

Derek has the sense to look ashamed at his pitiful disguise. It truly is awful. Stiles is getting secondhand embarrassment just thinking about it.

“Look,” Derek says, hands nervously twisting together, “I have to go deal with this, can we talk later?”

Before Stiles can reply Derek is already taking off, catching a desk that’s fallen out of the Whittemore Enterprises building. He manages to catch it before it falls on a birds nest that situated in the middle of the bronze O. Of course he fucking does.

//

Stiles doesn’t see Derek for two days after the crocodile incident. He gets pulled into the photocopier room, the door locked behind him.

“People are going to talk,” Stiles says dryly. Derek shrugs, eye twinkling behind the black frames.

  
“Let them,” Derek murmurs. He pushes Stiles against the door. Stiles can feel the warmth of Derek’s hand where it’s situated on Stiles waist.

  
“So,” Derek says, “You’d recognize my eyes anywhere.”

  
Stiles flushes, mouth dropping open and closed as he tries to think of an appropriate response. Derek grins and wow, he doesn’t look like a wholesome country boy when he does that.

  
“Oh fuck it, I owe Scott twenty bucks,” Stiles grumbles, yanking Derek forward into a heady kiss. Derek responds happily, moaning softly. His hands tug Stiles closer, biting softly at Stiles lower lip and lapping at it to sooth the sting. Stiles hand trace along Derek’s back, leaning down to squeeze his ass teasingly.

  
“Dinner,” Derek murmurs, nuzzling Stiles neck, “Tonight. My treat.”

  
“Deal,” Stiles responds, eager to get back to the kissing. A thought hits Stiles a second later.

  
“Hold on, if we have sex are you going to have to take off your clothes and your suit?”

  
Derek’s ears flush crimson. Stiles grins. Oh this is going to be fun.  
//

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompt Me Here](http://ladypigswagon.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
